Page 4 of Friends in Common


  Including June.

  I wonder what poor bastard will try tackling her?

  From the way Eliza grinned, and then sidled over to whisper to Scrye, Cali smelled a set-up in progress and was glad she’d opted to lock the office so she could watch.

  This’ll be epic.

  “Okay,” Max said. “So you all note that, but remember, get permission. Don’t just jump on someone. Ponies, we’re going to give you the old side to roam in,” Max added. “It’s big enough to run around over there. Doesn’t mean you can’t come over here, or that other critters can’t use the old side, but that way everyone has room to play.” Looked like there were only two ponies, and Cali wasn’t familiar with either one of them, or their handlers.

  “When we get done today, we’d appreciate it if everyone pitched in a hand to help us wipe down the mats and get them returned to the storage bags. The rope people also use them, and they do the same thing. That being said…have fun. Also, if you sit on a piece of equipment, please wipe it down. And that brings me to this isn’t a ‘play-play’ kind of session. Animal and feral play only. Bring it back tonight for the open play session if you want to spank or tie or whatever. Oh, and please try not to get hurt. Most of us look to be middle-aged and have real day jobs we need to be vertical for come Monday morning.”

  Everyone started getting ready, which in some cases meant shedding clothes and wearing the bare minimum, all the way up to the ponies, who each looked like they came with enough gear to tack up a bio-horse.

  Eliza had ended her discussion with Scrye, but before Cali could head over to ask what she had up her sleeve, the doorbell rang.

  Dammit.

  She hurried out to the office to let the newcomers in. They were already members, so as she checked them in, she gave them a quick rundown of Max’s rules for the event, and then followed them back into the dungeon to watch.

  June stripped down to black capri yoga pants and a black sports bra.

  Aaannnd that was it.

  No knee pads, no dog head gear, no tail, no paw mitts, no shoes.

  Nothing.

  Nothing except a slightly evil smile, and her hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head.

  Rusty apparently hadn’t been paying attention when Eliza and Scrye had their little tête-à-tête. While June walked over to the edge of the mats and started stretching, including doing moves that almost made her look like her joints were made of rubber, Rusty was still digging through his gear bag, looking for something, and apparently oblivious to this.

  Eliza looked proud of herself. Scrye stood there apparently amused, watching with his arms crossed over his enormous chest like he had a very large, predatory animal just let off its leash and he was hoping he could wrangle it back in at the end of the session.

  Cali was hoping Rusty wasn’t going to need a paramedic.

  Again.

  Although, to be fair, the last time Rusty needed medical attention at a Suncoast Society event, it was totally an accident that wasn’t his fault, and had, ironically, been inflicted during a vanilla combat demonstration for kids.

  Rusty wore what looked like tight bike shorts with a protective cup inside, what he’d been wearing under the T-Rex costume. He’d added knee pads, sneakers, elbow pads, and a mouth guard.

  Cali edged on over between Eliza and Scrye. Everyone else was still getting ready.

  “What’s the action?” Cali muttered.

  Scrye tipped his head toward her. “June in five minutes or less.”

  “You think it’ll take her all of five?” Cali asked.

  “He is close to three of her.”

  “True,” Cali said. At around six four, Rusty was over a foot taller and at least a hundred and seventy-five pounds heavier than June. “She does remember he faints at the sight of blood, right?”

  “Yep,” Eliza said. “I’m betting three minutes or less. But only because she’s not allowed to go rough on him. Like Max said, I need him at work Monday. Barbarian’s gotta earn his keep.”

  “Storming the castle not paying what it used to, huh?”

  “Fuck, no. If we could make a living at mock combat, believe me, we would have been all over that shit years ago.”

  * * * *

  As he donned his puppy gear, Sean suspected something was up with the June and Rusty matchup. Knee pads, jock, full head mask, and a harness. Sean left the tail off only because it’d be in the way and maybe accidentally get ripped off. He also wore sneakers, even though he’d be on all fours, to protect his feet and toes.

  That Eliza and Scrye had engineered the matchup to happen early, before anyone else got out on the mats, led credence to his theory.

  All he knew was that he wanted no part of whatever was going to happen. He suspected June would systematically tear Rusty apart, piece by piece.

  He knew both of them, and knew that Rusty’s deceptive size hid the heart of a puppy, and hard, scrappy June was always being underestimated.

  When June finished stretching, she dropped onto all fours and practically galloped out into the middle of the mats. And it didn’t look like the awkward shuffle of the average adult on all fours, either. It looked fluid, natural, and nearly creepy in how effortlessly she’d done it. Like something out of a horror movie. In position, she grinned at Rusty as she crouched, almost looking like a dog sitting and waiting.

  No, not a dog.

  More like one of those vicious bobcats hiding lethal claws.

  Rusty now had his gear set and dropped down onto all fours at the edge of the mat. Sean spotted exactly when Rusty really got a look at June. He appeared like he was going to sit back and speak to Eliza, but she reached down, slapped his ass, and pointed.

  “Go play. No holds barred.”

  June’s grin widened.

  So did Eliza’s.

  Scrye wore his same amused smile, but now he was slowly shaking his head in a way that could only be described as that poor bastard.

  Sean finished gearing up and walked over to Scrye as Rusty slowly made his way across the mat. June hadn’t moved, waiting.

  Rusty now looked terrified.

  “What’s going on?” Sean softly asked Scrye.

  “I have a slave in need of blowing off some steam and Eliza has one in need of a good ass-kicking.”

  Now more people were watching the situation play out. Rusty tried circling her and she smoothly turned, watching him.

  Rusty stopped and tentatively gave a play bow, wagging his ass.

  Sean had never seen an evil grin quite the degree of the one June wore. “Woof,” she said, but in English like a human, not like she was pretending to bark like a puppy.

  Apparently Rusty must have decided that he wanted to get whatever this was over with. He lunged toward her, and now the entire room’s attention was on them. Sean wasn’t sure he believed his eyes when June dodged Rusty by springing up onto one hand and flipping over the top of Rusty, coming down behind him on all fours again.

  And not even looking like she broke a sweat.

  Eliza snorted as Rusty wheeled around.

  “What the fuck?” Sean muttered. “Is she like a ninja or a Jedi or something?”

  “Pretty damn close,” Scrye said. “Thank god she doesn’t have access to a real lightsaber. I don’t have that much bail money.”

  It’d be poor sportsmanship to get up on two legs, it would seem. June’s grin never faltered as she matched Rusty’s turn, crabwalking sideways on all fours, low to the ground and stretching her legs in a way that didn’t look humanly possible.

  Now Sean realized it was Rusty being stalked. All the poor bastard was doing was trying to keep space between him and June. He was the one turning as she circled him.

  He actually backed away from her.

  “Come on,” Eliza called out. “Grow a pair and get in there, barbarian. This is getting boring.”

  Rusty didn’t take his eyes off June. When his body tensed, like he was going to lunge again, June twisted away from him,
rolling to her right and diving over the top of him. Before Rusty could stop his momentum, June kicked Rusty’s left arm out from under him.

  He went down. She swung her legs around and caught him in a headlock. As a coup de grace, she grabbed his other arm and twisted it up and back.

  Sean couldn’t make out Rusty’s scream, but June immediately released him and stood, returning to Scrye, an evil gleam in her eyes as she smiled.

  “Dammit, I was hoping for a beatdown,” Eliza said. Rusty rolled onto his back. She walked around the mats to look down at him. “She was a lot easier on you than I usually am.”

  He spit out the mouthguard, and it landed on his chest. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “That was easy?” Sean asked Scrye.

  He snorted as he pulled June in for a hug. “Eliza told her no fists, and no pressure points.”

  “Spoilsport,” June playfully said, but her evil smile made Sean shiver.

  Chapter Five

  Max walked over to Sean. “Just be glad we’re not going to let Scrye turn June loose on you.”

  “No, thank you.” Apparently, just to be sure, he turned to Max. “Red. Not just red, but fucking neon, blinking red.”

  Rusty didn’t seem to be any worse for wear. He’d retrieved his mouthguard and now sat up on the mats, waiting for someone to join him.

  Max slapped Sean on the ass. His guy looked good dressed like a pup. “Go on and play.”

  Someone tossed a couple of dog toys into the middle of the mats. Sean finally dropped down onto all fours and headed out to meet Rusty.

  Eliza cackled. “I love reminding him of his place in the food chain.”

  “Rusty?” Max asked, although he suspected Sean now had an even better appreciation for June’s firm footing as an apex predator.

  “Yep. He’s going to get a really good beating tonight after dinner, too. You guys going to Sigalo’s?”

  “No. Not quite enough time between this and the play session later.”

  “Want us to bring you something back?”

  “Ooh, yeah.” He started to reach for his wallet.

  “No, our treat,” Eliza said. “You guys volunteer here all the time. Least we can do is contribute by buying you some grub.”

  “Aw, thanks. Cali knows what we like. She can write you up ours.”

  “That works.”

  More people started playing. Scrye sent June over to the other, smaller set of mats to play with Shayla and Lynn, who were both in full puppy gear. Handlers stood talking or around the mats, tossing toys into the group, and people laughed as pups fought over a toy, or brought it to someone to throw again.

  An easy, fun vibe rolled through the space, a good energy. Max wished he could jump in and join them.

  Since they were “in charge” today, it was better he didn’t drop into a puppy headspace. Sean really could get into one, depending on the play. Max not as much. Max could easily flip back into Topspace when doing puppy play. He envied people who could totally get into and stay in an “animal” headspace when doing this kind of play. Unlike subspace for Max, where he could lose track of time and really let go.

  Like he had earlier in bed with Sean, or the way he could when Cali took charge.

  Speaking of Cali, he turned to see if she was still in there and had seen Rusty’s takedown by June, but he spotted her over on the old side. When he realized she was talking to Kel, he headed over. He hadn’t seen the man in weeks.

  “Hey!” He gave Kel a long, strong hug. “How you doing?”

  Kel nodded “Vertical.”

  Max mentally winced. “Mal?”

  Kel’s tight smile told Max way more than any words. “Vertical. Usually.”

  “Sorry, man. Anything we can do?”

  Kel nodded toward the dungeon space. “You already are.”

  * * * *

  Cali’s heart was breaking for Kel. “Let’s go talk in the office.” She led the way while Max returned to supervise the ongoing puppy play. Kel had let himself in with his key and hadn’t needed to use the doorbell. That’s why it’d caught her a little by surprise when he’d walked up to her, where she’d been watching the ongoing puppy pile, and said hi.

  She wasn’t sure what to say to him. “We miss you guys.”

  “We miss everyone, too.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “Look, I wanted to talk to you three anyway. I don’t know how long it’s going to be until I can volunteer again. Or if I’ll be able to. Between working and Mal, I…” He sighed. “I wanted to know if you’d let me sign over my share of the club to you guys.”

  “What?” She noticed he didn’t mention Mal volunteering, which broke her heart more than a little, but she didn’t want to push.

  “I mean, it doesn’t pay money. Everything Derrick and I make, we put right back into it. And Lynn cut the club a check when she won the lotto and refused to let us refuse it, so we’re sitting on a considerable reserve. But it’s paying its own way, at least. No money out of your pocket.”

  She stared at him. “Are you serious?”

  “I am. It’s not fair of me to keep imposing on you guys like this without—”

  “It’s not an imposition. Seriously, it’s not.”

  “But you guys have been putting so much into this.”

  A chill she couldn’t identify or put a name to rippled through her. The only thing she knew was that letting Kel hand over his share of the club to them would be worse than wrong. Another thing Mal would try to beat herself up over, another perceived failure, in her mind.

  “A lot of people put a lot of time and effort into the club. And we love you and Mal, which is why we’re happy to do it. We have one business, and the guys have day jobs. We can devote a couple of days a month here. And I don’t mind being the volunteer coordinator. We don’t have the time or energy to take on a larger burden as owners.”

  He sank into an office chair behind the counter and looked…lost. “I honestly can’t give you a return time right now.”

  “That’s okay. Seriously. How are you doing?”

  “I’m…doing. I don’t have any other choice except to keep moving forward. I have to.”

  “Look, Chelbie hasn’t told us a lot. And she’s been gone a lot, too, so we haven’t seen much of her lately.”

  “Yeah, she’s been out in LA a lot with Rich.” He leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees, and buried his face in his hands. He looked…weary. Aged.

  Worn out.

  “Mal’s back in inpatient up in Tampa,” he softly said. “Minimum of a month.”

  The chill turned into a freeze. “I thought she was home?”

  “She was. I made her get on the scale the other day and she’d lost ten of the pounds she’d regained. Then I realized she’d started cutting. I was…stupid. I don’t know how I missed it. She’s been doing it for a couple of weeks.”

  “Oh, god, Kel, I’m so sorry.”

  His laugh rattled around in his soul without a hint of mirth. “The irony doesn’t escape me that it’s a kink of mine to do it to her. But when I saw the marks and made her fess up…” He shook his head and finally dropped his hands so he could look up at her. “I nearly threw up. I called her doctor and they had me drive her up immediately. I won’t give up on her, but…”

  His voice choked. “I don’t want to lose her, Cali. She’s my life. I love her. But it’s like she’s trying to kill herself a calorie at a time.” He wiped at his eyes. “At her worst, she was down to one hundred and two pounds, and she looked like a fucking skeleton. Way worse than the last time you saw her. They’d warned me that we might have to force-feed her with a damn feeding tube because she was that bad.”

  “Oh, my god!”

  “I know. I hate myself for this, but the first time around she was inpatient, I went total asshole Master on her. I told her if she really loved me, and she really considered herself my slave, she’d drink the fucking shakes, and she’d do what they fucking told her. That made her cry and made me feel lower than
scum. But we got her to at least maintain and finally, slowly start gaining weight.

  “And it…it was horrible. It took months to finally get her to a point we could talk about bringing her home. We all really thought she’d made progress—me, my mom, her treatment team. She had gained a healthy amount of weight, and she was still a little underweight for her height, but she didn’t look like a damn skeleton anymore. She was finally in a healthy territory on the weight charts. She was even maintaining her weight while eating normal foods.

  “See, it’s not just the weight loss, it’s the back and forth that can throw the body out of whack. One of the unhealthy coping mechanisms she’d started using after we lost the baby was exercise. She’d go running or swimming for hours at a time sometimes, just work herself into total exhaustion. Especially if I wasn’t home to stop her. June’s older sister, May, she was the one who’d miscarried. She was coming up and teaching Mal yoga and gentle exercises to help her, right? And we tried not to tie everything into weigh-ins. I guess I sort of lost my uber-vigilance mode. She looked…I just sensed something wasn’t right. She also confessed she’d started running again when I wasn’t home.

  “Then I feel like the world’s biggest asshole, again, because here I am, driving her back to Tampa, and she’s begging me to let her stay home and she’ll gain it back. Except, I know she won’t. Not yet. Not on her own. And not with her starting to cut, too.”

  “Why’d she start doing that?”

  “She said she didn’t know, at first. Then she admitted part of it was because I won’t play with her right now. She thought maybe if she tried cutting it might help her be able to feel more in control and be able to eat normally. I can’t play with her right now. I’m terrified I’ll hurt her. I mean, you hadn’t seen her. I still have in my mind that skeleton image, versus the healthy, curvy beautiful woman she was when we met.”

  He leaned back in the chair, gaze fixed on the ceiling. “So she’s in there again for at least another four weeks. They’re going to try adjusting her meds. They think maybe she’s developed a tolerance, so they’re going to up the dosage, maybe switch one out.”